


The Duellists

by bookscorpion



Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, I'm gonna buy him a drink next chapter, Lambert less so, M/M, Or Three, self-indulgent af but I had fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: Trouble can be arranged. Lambert grins to himself - this is actually a challenge.Lambert is in the mood for a brawl and gets more than he bargained for.





	The Duellists

 

Lambert has to hold on to the wall so he doesn’t pitch forward into the urinal. Whatever that stuff was that he just drank, it kicks like a mule. It tastes not so bad once he got used to the nutmeg. Lambert has no regrets even though everything is a bit too loud and too bright just now.

When he comes back into the bar, there's someone sitting next to Aiden. He has no idea who this is so he hangs back to watch. Maybe it'll be a job and they could use that.

Ork. Long hair, complicated tattoos, neatly dressed, and a friendly smile. A bit too friendly for Lambert's taste. Would fit is he's a Johnson. The music is too loud even for Lambert's hearing to pick up their conversation except the occasional word.

Lambert lounges against the wall, arms crossed. Not because he's drunk and unsteady on his feet.. It's just more comfortable this way. He watches Aiden and the stranger from the shadows as they talk. And laugh. Eye contact a bit too long.

The guy is actually flirting with Aiden. Well, good luck with that, Lambert thinks, although he has to admit the ork isn't actually bad looking. If you went for the soft and squishy type. Lambert sure as hell didn't. There was no way this guy could handle himself in a fight, ork or not. He's probably slumming, Lambert decides, out for an adventure.

Lambert huffs and almost chokes on his own spit when the ork puts a hand on Aiden's arm. Just a quick touch but Aiden smiles at it. Maybe Lambert is shit at flirting himself but he knows it when he sees it and he has had enough.

It's been a shit couple of days. He could use something to blow off some steam and Fancy Tattoos has just volunteered. Lambert pushes himself upright and struts over to the bar, staggering only very slightly. Aiden looks up and smiles at him, opens his mouth, but Lambert isn't in the mood to listen. Especially since there's a good chance Aiden would be able to defuse the situation.

Lambert is having none of that. He gets right into the ork's personal space. 'Keep your hands off of him, pretty boy. Or I'll see to it that you're taught a lesson.' He hears Aiden groan, but still reaches for the ork's wrist, intending to twist.

A shadow falls over him before he can grab the wrist and he turns, looking the caster of the shadow squarely in the chest. Another ork, tall enough to positively loom over Lambert.

'Calm down, they were just talking.' There's an edge to the ork's voice and Lambert recognises the stance of an experienced brawler expecting trouble.

Trouble can be arranged. Lambert grins to himself - this is actually a challenge. He would have felt slightly bad about breaking Fancy Tattoos' face but this, this will be _fun_.

'Like hell they were. What are you, his nanny? Carrying that rich kid's ass around for him?' From the corner of his eye, Lambert can see Aiden putting a hand over his eyes, but he's far more interested in the dangerously calm smile the huge ork gives him.

'How about we discuss that outside?' Lambert hasn't heard a better idea all day and nods at the ork.

'Duncan-,'

Pretty Boy sounds worried but no-one listens to him and Lambert follows Duncan outside into the back alley. Thank you for the introduction, Pretty Boy. Now Lambert knows what to put on the get well-card he isn't going to write. He uses the short walk to watch Duncan. All those muscles almost hide a certain litheness and Lambert thinks he'd better be careful because Duncan might be quic-

The kick hits him squarely the moment his brain registers the movement and he staggers into some trash cans. His leg goes numb. It's like getting punched by a rock troll. Duncan is on top of Lambert before he can regain his balance and the fucker really is freakishly fast. More punches connect, rattling Lambert's skull and he is _done_ with fighting fair.

Duncan doesn't register the Sign. Lambert's blast of Aard makes him stumble, but not go down and Lambert curses while he tries to find an open spot in Duncan's defenses. He doesn't but another kick and a punch find him. Duncan knows to use his longer reach. They circle, the ground slippery from the drizzling rain, feint attacks, exchange blows. Lambert gets a few punches in, draws blood. It makes him feel better about his own bleeding nose and bruised ribs, but not much.

 _Fuck this._ He curls his fingers into the gesture for Igni and his lips into a savage grin.

Instead of setting Duncan on fire, Lambert sees the world tilt upwards as his body gently folds up and he hits his forehead on the pavement. Not even his considerable rage at this development can convince his limbs to move or his head to turn so he can see more than the ground in close-up.

'What did you do to him?' That's Aiden's voice and he sounds worried on the verge of anger. Aiden turns him over, feeling for his pulse.

'I took his strength. But he'll be fine when I drop the spell.' Fancy Tattoos stands with a hand to Duncan's chest, holding him back just with that gentle touch. He looks exactly like a man with his tamed beast, a beast that listens to his master but no-one else.

'Give me a minute to talk to Lambert - we'll meet you inside.' Aiden really could sound more outraged at Lambert's situation. And what does he mean, 'we'll meet you inside'? 'Pray you never see me again' would be a lot more to Lambert's liking. Not enough that he fucking underestimated Duncan, he also got his ass handed to him by a squishy mage. Another drink and never talking about this again is what Lambert wants right now.

Strength and feeling return to his limbs in a rush that leaves him gasping as he sits bolt upright. He spits a gob of blood and grimaces at the pain in his jaw. Teeth knocked loose. It will heal.

'What was that about? Did you think I'd just up and leave with Rhys?' Aiden pulls him to his feet.

'No, because you're not an asshole. Mostly. But he _really_ tried, didn't he?' Lambert winces as he sorts through his injuries. None that need immediate attention. All of them annoying. But not as annoying as the fact that Aiden is on first name basis with Fancy Tattoos.

'And you thought you'd entertain yourself.' Aiden shakes his head. 'Please, how about you don't get into a brawl just because people smile at me? Because as you just said, I am not a complete asshole and that causes people to have friendly conversations with me. You'd never stop punching people.'

'And what's bad about that?' Aiden gives Lambert a look and he relents. 'I'll try.' Lambert waves in the direction of the back door. 'And _why_ do we meet up again with them?' He doesn't actually mind the flirting. He trusts Aiden. But he thought he'd get a good brawl, a more or less easy win and some more drinks. And now he's pissed mostly at himself for underestimating this situation in too many ways.

'Because there's a job in it for us and also because I happen to like Rhys. Listen, I'm not asking you to apologise or something, I don't think they'll expect that either. Just come and have some more of that Usquebaugh.' Aiden raises his eyebrows and waits for Lambert to decide. Since Lambert knows that Aiden would leave with him if he'd ask, he nods.

'Fine. Let's get drunk.' He shoulders the door open.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written purely because I wanted to see Lambert and Duncan get into a fight, angry disaster men that they both are. How do Lambert and Aiden get into Shadowrun? Who knows, I sure as fuck don't.
> 
> Usquebaugh is the Irish version of [Hurgl](https://shadowrun.fandom.com/wiki/Hurlg) \- super alcoholic booze with nutmeg, drunk mainly by orks and trolls and also by humans with something to prove or with the cast-iron stomach of a witcher.  
> Fic title taken from the Iron Maiden song of the same name (which in turn took it from the Ridley Scott movie afaik)
> 
> Beta read by [Crimsonherbarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium) \- thank you!


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